the end in sight

This blog was built to describe the beauty of a summer in DC, a summer waning in its humid glory. I only just realized that it's been in the low 90's all week, because I've felt so warm and happy. Yet as an Oregonian, any mention of this temperature range is usually enough to freak me out.

Life on the Hill continues to be lovely, and I enjoy my historic house and the beautiful brick townhouses. I'm winding down on cultural excursions, mostly out of exhaustion and the desire to relax. Furthermore, I've accepted some cold, hard truths:

• I will never, ever want to pay $18 for a ticket to the (private) Spy Museum.
• The Medical History Museum that no one ever visits is truly too inconvenient to visit.
• The Newseum, which retails for $17.76, will probably never be worth $17.76 so long as I'm living off a student loan.
• The Textile Museum could be interesting, but so is Direct TV -- which is conveniently located in my living room, rather than somewhere off Dupont Circle.

Yep, I'm mentally checking out. I am tired of my suitcase full of clothes, tired of rationing my deodorant, and I miss my car. Twelve weeks is a weird amount of time to live somewhere: too long to sustain a tourist-mentality level of interest and curiosity, yet too short to buy another full-sized tube of toothpaste. Consequential long-term feelings of surreal displacement!